[hr][align=center][font=georgia][size=18][color=white]ferris carfter.
[hr][font=georgia][size=7pt]Keeping her eyes adverted away from the people who sat around the dirty, germ filled room. People were sneezing, and coughing because Spring was approaching, but it was still cold. Her foot bounced furiously up and down from the ground as she rubbed her temples, wondering when she’d be able to escape this room that was sure to be filled with grime. One day in the future, she would have to get some soap, a toothbrush, and a bucket of water, and come wash down this whole office. She already knew that she was receiving glances, and all because when she had first came in, she literally cleaned the chair with about twelve different kind of disinfected wipes before actually sitting down. ‘I don’t think they should be looking at me like that because their in here for the same reason too. They’ve got a ‘problem’ or ‘disability’ as the therapists, and doctors love to call it.’ She had remembered the thought seeing that she had seen it when she had gotten the first couple of stares, and snickers.
Since she had gotten them all through her life, she was perfectly fine with it. Crossing one leg over the other, she folded her hands, letting them rest on her lap as she impatiently waited for her name to be called. The small sessions that she was going to be having with her new therapists would be every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday at three in the afternoon to five. Two full hours with someone who just wanted to prick themselves into her life just to get paid some pounds. It’s just that, her therapists still got paid even though she refused to even make eye contact with them! To her, it was funny how most of them tried about one week before leaving, saying they couldn’t deal with her smart remarks, and ‘unpleasant and childish’ behavior. It always left her in a heap of giggles when her mum told her all the comments the therapists had made about her over the years she’s been coming here.
Ferris Lin Carfter was a nineteen year old girl who had a horrible OCD problem. She would literally scrub her skin until layers had fallen off, and she was bleeding if she fell onto the ground. True story, true story. Happened to her about three times already? Mhm, think so. Ferris figured out she had an OCD issue when she was four. Some random kid pushed her into a pile of mud, and she absolutely was not sobbing her head off because of the cut, but she was sobbing her head off because she was dirty. Sent to the nurses off, Ferris took a shower, and washed herself from her hair to under her toe nail about five times, scrubbing as hard as she could. Then, she used all of the baby wipes to wipe once more before she pulled on some new, clean clothes that she washed by herself because she didn’t want to get infected by the germ covered hands of the nurse, or any other blokes in the school. It had astounded her mum when she had figured out that her four year old daughter had OCD, and she new she had it bad if she was acting like this. Refusing to get into her mum’s car unless she cleaned the seats. Her mum did so, but Ferris did it herself just to make sure. The nineteen year old is a vegetarian because she just can’t stand the greasy foods. Just the thought of all those germs that they carry, and how fat they can make her, and how more grease will generate from her body because of it…Yuck! She just can’t do it! Ever since then, Ferris has been attending these sessions to get her ‘condition’ under control, and her mum teaches her at home.
Thinking that her name would never be called, Ferris stood to her feet, walking into the ‘Girls Bathroom’, opening the door with a wipe. Before she could even step inside, and was knocked down, her green eyes opened wide before she jumped to her face, and ignored the person’s ‘sorry’, locking herself into the big stall. Opening up her bookbag, she pulled out the two boxes of wipes, and began to scrub down herself twenty times before she wiped the floor of the stall clean, and the walls. Sitting against it, she pulled her knees up to her chest, and snuggled her face into the crook of her thighs, sobs escaping her lips. ‘Shh Ferr. You’re fine. You’re clean. Everything will be okay.’ She kept repeating the soothing words to herself, but they just couldn’t calm her down. Wiping her tears every time she felt one fall, she sniffed before getting to her feet, and pulling her bookbag onto her back. Ferris unlocked the bathroom stall door, and stepped out, walking up to the counter, making sure not to touch it. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red, her green eyes now a bit darker, bloodshot. Tears stains were dried onto her face. Pulling out another wipe, she cleaned up her face, and wiped her septum piercing clean. She threw away the wipe, pulling her hair back, and tying it into a perfect bun with her wirebrush. Everything just had to be perfect, and clean. Tying the shoelaces of her black vans, she pulled out her grey skinnies, and fixed her old, faded black band tee-shirt before pulling open the bathroom door, and stepping out, throwing the wipe out of the way.
Anger rushed through her as she saw her seat filled, but then it quickly disappeared, her face going blank. It wasn’t her seat to claim, so why was she complaining? Instead, she decided to just stand by the wall, and wait for her name to be called for her session. She had about five to ten more minutes. Hopefully, the therapist was smart, and kept his/her room cleaned, since they should know that would have OCD kids going in and out. “Ferris Carfter. Room 312, floor 6.” Breathing out a sigh of relief, Ferries took the stairs to the room because she thought that it would just be easier, and more cleaner than taking that elevator that just enveloped you into the disgusting air of.. dirt, infections, and germs. “I’m here to see the therapist in room 312.” She said to the receptionist, being led there, she was glad that the receptionist opened the door because she didn’t want to waste any more wipes on handles of doors, even though she probably would if she had to. “Hello. I’m Ferris.” She said introducing herself, standing in the corner of the room, not touching the walls yet.
[hr][font=georgia][size=7pt]plot;;
ferris is has a horrible ocd issue&bipolar problems.. your person can either be her therapist, and another patient.
if your going to be the therapist;;for the first couple of weeks, you dont give up. you keep going at it, knowing if you just annoyed her as much as she annoyed you, she would soon speak. by the third week, she's talking to you. just short sentences, and one words. no questions, and confusing answers. but at least she was doing something else that giving a smart remark, and scientific, biological opinion.
if your going to be another patient;;her therapist thinks it will be good to be put in group sessions, since other kids might be able to connect with her more than her own therapist can. you&ferris end up being partners for all the group sessions, cause you get one for your whole year session, and slowly, she starts making progress with you, just like you with her since you didn't want to open up to her either.
either way, memories unfold, dreams are expressed. love/friendship will arise. you can decide whether romance is involved. if you have any plots, please pm me, and we could maybe steer in that direction if you are willing to work it out with me.
rules;;
i understand writer's block&all, but please reply with at least two paragraphs. i am probably not going to give you one line sentences, so i do not want that. one paragraph is fine if you do have writer's block. cussing will happen for me, and maybe you, whatever you prefer. i just ask that you star out the vowels. you can use a boy, or girl. i really don't care. i do bxg, and gxg. please do not ditch, if you are going to join, then stay committed. i'd rather not see this thread go to waste. that's all i have to say, and will inform you if i have anything else to add.
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